Imprisonment 1-2

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 14:10:56

(I)

I closed my eyes, enjoying the pleasure from behind.
"Mmm...so good...darling...so amazing...harder...ah...ah..."
The man behind me grabbed my arms and thrust into me with all his might.
"So deep...mmm...all the way in...so good...kiss me...mmm...woo...tsk tsk..."
I enjoyed the French kiss with the man while he thrust into me with a broken heart. Sweat poured down my neck, cleavage, lower abdomen, and mons pubis.
"...So good...I'm going to come...oh...ahhh...I'm going to climax...right there...ahhhhh!"
I tensed up, my whole body trembling.
Because he was holding my hands, he could thrust deep into my vagina with all his might.
My 34F snow-white breasts shook violently from his thrusts, as if they were about to be torn off my chest.
"Ah...all the way in...uh...I can't take it anymore...ah...be gentle...you'll break it..."
He slowed down, "obediently" letting his penis stop at the entrance of my vagina, moving it slowly.
"...Darling, don't stop, please!"
"Do you want it faster or slower?" he asked with a smile.
"Ahhhhh! Either way! Harder is fine! So...so good! Ahhhhh!"
"The big beauty from the marching band, if the seniors find out, you'll be expelled from training, right?" he asked provocatively as he thrust into me.
"Ahhhh! I don't know! Don't...don't ask! Fuck me harder! Fuck me, ahhhhh!"

Suddenly, a hand hit my face, startling me awake.
My husband, who was fast asleep, accidentally hit my face with his arm as he turned over, waking me from my erotic dream.
In the dream, I was only wearing the dress I used to wear as a former marching band member, and I was having sex with my first love in a park toilet.
I was drenched in sweat, completely soaked, looking at my snoring husband beside me, a chill running down my spine.
I had actually dreamt of having sex with someone else right next to him.
And it wasn't just anyone; I knew who it was.
My first boyfriend, Xiao En, who swore he'd marry me but ended up going insane.
Although I didn't marry him in the end, I could never forget everything about him.

I reached for my phone, checked the time—5:30 in the morning.
Thankfully, there was still plenty of time.
I got up, washed up, prepared breakfast, and after looking around in the closet for a while, finally chose what to wear.
The alarm rang.
"Oh, you're up so early," my husband said, looking at me sleepily.
"Yeah, I got up early today," I said.

As usual, my husband drove me to work.
But today, I didn't let him pick me up; I told him I had plans with friends and asked him to go home first.
After work, I hailed a taxi and went to the place where my ex-boyfriend lived.
If someone has been deprived of their freedom for over two thousand days, what crime do you think they committed?
Ten years ago, when I was with him, he was a bright, tall, and fair-skinned student;
his family was wealthy and wanted to groom him into a successful man.
We dated from our third year of junior high to our first year of university.
Because our parents opposed our relationship so early,
he finally suffered a mental breakdown under the pressure of love, studies, and various other things, and
was eventually sent to this sanatorium.

I have never forgotten him. My first love. The man I truly gave my virginity to.

It was a mental sanatorium in the mountains near Taipei.
I thought I would only need a period of treatment and recuperation, maybe six months, before being released?
I never imagined it would be six years already.
As usual, we met in the visiting room.
"I've been locked up for six years. What crime did I commit to deserve being locked up for so long?" he asked.
Every time I visit him, I have to beg his family to let me see him. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, his family will agree to let me go, but most of the time I'm refused.
They believe I'm the culprit behind their son's mental breakdown.
To be able to continue visiting him in the hospital, I had to resort to pleading and begging.
They knew that even though I only visited once or twice a year, it was still very important to him.
I was probably the only person besides his family and the hospital who would contact him. So they would still let me go occasionally.

"It's okay, Xiaoqi, when I get out, I will definitely marry you," he said to me with conviction.
I tried my best to give him a smile, to make my tears look like they weren't from pain.

After our brief visit, I went to the entrance of the nursing home and called a taxi to go down the mountain.
A man was also at the gate. Seeing me waiting for a taxi, he came over and struck up a conversation with me.
"Miss, who are you visiting?" he asked.
"My ex-boyfriend," I said.
"Oh... my ex-boyfriend," he said thoughtfully. "Why didn't you come with his family?"
"His family isn't very friendly to me. They don't really want me to come."
The man nodded. "Yeah, you need the legal guardian's permission to meet with someone, there's no way around it."
"Yeah."
"Unless, is there another way to get in without their permission?"
This question startled me. However, a strange man saying such a thing made me instinctively wary.
A taxi arrived; it seemed I hadn't called it.
The man took out a business card from his pocket. "Here, if you're interested, contact me."
He got in and drove off. Watching his car disappear into the distance, I picked up the business card and examined it closely.
It was a very normal business card.
"Psychological Counselor Hong Wenlong"
had contact information below: email, phone number, etc.

-----------

I tied my hair up and focused on stroking his penis.
He lay on the bed, stroking my hair with one hand and my back with the other.
I gently licked his little head, secretly watching what he was doing,
only to find him staring intently at my braids.
"What's so interesting about braids?" I asked him.
He said, "The way they sway back and forth is cute."
I smiled at him, then began to stroke and suck on them.
He couldn't help but let out a soft gasp,
which filled me with a sense of accomplishment.
He couldn't resist any
longer, flipping me over,
straddling my open legs,
placing his hands on either side of my head, and
forcefully pinning me down.
A thick, hard penis was thrust into my honeypot,
causing me to involuntarily bend my arms,
grab the pillow behind me, and lie on the bed moaning.
He suddenly thrust forward forcefully,
inserting his entire penis deep into my honeypot,
pressing against my depths.
I held his head with both hands,
hooking my legs around his buttocks,
anticipating his next move.

"Xiaoqi?"
My husband's voice came from beside me, startling me.
I woke up again from my dream.
It was a dream.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"No, nothing," I said.
"You seemed to be talking in your sleep?"
I asked, feeling a little guilty. "What did I say?"
"I think I was saying something about how good braids are? I didn't quite understand."
"Okay, go back to sleep, you have to go to work tomorrow."
My husband nodded and turned over to sleep again,
but I couldn't fall asleep anymore,
my mind filled with images of my ex-boyfriend.

It had been half a year since I last visited him.
I called his family from work;
although their home phone number wasn't in my phone,
I could recite it from memory.
I'll never forget every little thing about him.
The call was answered quickly;
it was his mother.
"Hello, Mrs. Zhang," I said.
"Oh, Xiaoqi?"
No introduction was needed; they knew me quite well.
We'd been together for five years; we were practically acquaintances.
"I'd like to visit Xiao En. Is that alright?"
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line.
"The doctor said it's best if you don't meet," his mother said. "After you went to see him last time, he's been very agitated, constantly calling your name. The doctor said it won't help his condition."
"Oh, shouldn't I be visiting him more often?"
"Don't you understand? You're married now; what's the point of going to see him!" His mother raised her voice. "You should stay as far away from him as possible!"
The call ended.
I looked at the business card in my hand and took a deep breath.

"Hello? Is this Mr. Hong?"
"Yes, it is."
Calling him directly like this felt a bit abrupt,
and I wasn't sure if he even remembered me.
"Hello, we met at the entrance of the nursing home about half a year ago. Do you remember me?"
He paused slightly.
"Oh, I remember now," he said. "Your ex-boyfriend is in the nursing home, and his family won't let you in to see him, right?"
I was surprised that he remembered so many details,
considering it was just a chance conversation at the nursing home entrance.
"Yes, yes, you said there were other ways to go into the nursing home to see him. I'd like to ask what those methods were?"
"Well, I'll have to ask you to come to my clinic. It'll be better if we explain in person."

His clinic was in an inconspicuous building on Xinsheng North Road.
It looked more like an office than a clinic.
I was invited into his consultation room,
which was empty
except for some small chairs and a mosaic floor.
"Ms. Zhao," he asked, "let's talk about your relationship with him and his family first?"
I told him in detail about everything that had happened between us, which was why I couldn't get along with his family. She listened attentively, taking notes with great focus—perhaps an occupational hazard for a therapist?
"So his family is refusing to let you visit him?"
"Yes, yes."
He nodded, saying, "I have a way. Listen to it; if you want, I can help you. If you don't want to accept it, then forget it; it won't do me any good anyway."
"What way?" I asked.
He smiled and said, "To get into a nursing home, only two types of people can go: family members and..."
"Patients!" I exclaimed.
He smiled, "That's not my idea."

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Imprisonment 1-2

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